


tell me about your family

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [4]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-26 03:38:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4988791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine William Ransome visiting Fraser's Ridge sometime in Book 9 and getting to know the Frasers, MacKenzies, and Murrays better. Related ficlets written for Imagine Claire & Jamie on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/131025385034/please-write-a-scene-where-brianna-tells-william) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: Please write a scene where Brianna tells William that they had a sister_

* * *

 

“Sassenach?”

“Hmm?”

Jamie set down the battered, Greek-language copy of _The Odyssey_ on his bedside table. “Do ye have any food in the top dresser drawer?”

Claire looked up from her reading – the latest political pamphlets sent by Fergus. “I don’t think so. I’m not surprised – you weren’t eating at supper, but I didn’t want to say anything.”

William had arrived the previous evening for a visit of indeterminate length. Ostensibly he wanted to see Fanny and better understand how she was faring among her new family on Fraser’s Ridge. But Claire secretly wondered whether William wanted to use the visit as an opportunity to get closer to Jamie – and to Brianna. Jamie had sent word of the MacKenzies’ return to Lord John, who hadn’t been able to (or wasn’t willing to, she mused) make it yet to the mountains himself. But he had had the generosity and wisdom to insist that William go before him.

So at supper, Jamie had been so caught up in just enjoying the miracle of his two children together – along with his beloved grandchildren – that he’d barely eaten. And now, late in the evening, it seemed that the hole in his stomach was finally making itself known.

“I suppose we have some bread left in the kitchen – and I’ll take the pot of honey out of hiding for you. How does that sound?”

Jamie edged closer on the mattress and kissed the crown of her head. Then he turned back the covers and bent, naked, to pick up his plaid, draped over the chair beside the window. For a moment, Claire just admired how the candlelight threw shadows over the hollows and creases of his body.

“Will ye come wi’ me, then?” He held out her shawl, and she stood, allowing him to settle the wrap around her shoulders. Claire opened the door. Jamie stepped beside her on the landing – and gripped her wrist hard, stilling her.

“What – ”

“Hush,” he whispered.

It took a few moments for Claire to hear the gentle buzz of voices below – and immediately understand why Jamie had frozen.

“-Can’t understand how those children don’t just wear you out by the end of the day,” William said in his proper, clipped English voice.

“That’s where Roger comes in,” Brianna responded in her flat American tones. “We take turns getting them up and putting them to bed. It’s the only way we’ve been able to make it work.”

A pause. “It’s a true partnership between you.”

“Yes. We’ve had a good model in Mama and Da that way.”

Claire eased Jamie’s grasp from her wrist and slid his palm to meet hers, tangling their fingers together.

“Yes, I see that. I’ve never really observed them together until these past few days.” A beat. “It’s so different from how I was raised. My stepfather and mother – well, stepmother, I suppose – they didn’t really _love_ each other. They certainly loved me, but…now I see Jamie and Mother Claire, how they are with each other, how they are with you and your children. That’s love. True love.”

The chair in front of the fire creaked.

“Brianna?” William’s voice was hesitant.

“Yes?”

“I was always made to think that Scots have large families. Many of the tenants here do. Why – why did they not have any more children?”

Jamie wordlessly drew Claire to his chest. She tightly wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He bent to touch his lips to her forehead, inhaling her scent, grounding himself. Giving her strength.

“They _did_ have another child.” Brianna’s words were slow, measured. “Soon after they married, when they were living in France before the Rising. She – she was stillborn. The birth nearly killed Mama. That’s all I know.”

A long, quiet moment passed, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire below. Jamie’s big hands soothed up and down Claire’s back, and he drew his plaid around her shoulders. Sheltering her. Protecting her as well as he could from her memories.

“That’s very sad,” William murmured.

“It was a long time ago. They never speak of it. They don’t need to – they have more family than they know what to do with. They have me, and my family, and Fergus and his family, and Ian and Rachel and Oggy, and Auntie Jenny, and all the tenants.” She paused. “And you, now, William.”

William exhaled. “I don’t know what to say to that, Brianna.”

“You don’t need to say anything. You just accept it – like I did.”

“Like _you_ did? I don’t follow.”

Claire heard the smile in her daughter’s voice. “Oh, little brother. That’s a story for another time.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire and Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/132157209756/a-lot-of-scenes-in-the-books-show-jamie) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here for easier reading and in case there's anyone on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: A lot of scenes in the books show Jamie recognising himself in his grandchildren, which is wonderful, but I often thought it would be a lovely thing to see him notice something of Claire in Jem or Mandy too, like Claire's inability to hide her emotion or an interest in healing._

* * *

 

Jamie turned to see who had stepped through the door. A tiny hand grabbed his chin and returned his head to face the fire. “No moving, pwease,” Mandy said with exaggerated patience. He obediently kept still, silently grimacing as she pulled and twisted his hair into tangled “pwaits.”

His grandchildren had been restless after supper – flush with excitement at the revelation that the young Englishman who had been visiting for the past few days was really their uncle. Neither of them had ever had an uncle before – especially one who looked so much like their Grand-da. Mandy had accepted it at face value, but Jem had had questions for Brianna. She and William were sitting with the lad now, getting to know each other over cups of warm cider in the kitchen. Jamie had offered to keep Mandy company while Roger saw to his evening chores and Claire and Fanny visited Ian and Rachel’s cabin to check on wee Oggy.

He still wasn’t accustomed to the miracle of seeing his two children together – and prayed to God that he’d never take such a blessing for granted. When he’d hoisted Mandy on his back and stepped out of the kitchen, it had startled him just how much they resembled each other. William had dark hair, to be sure – but his face, and Bree’s, and Jem’s, were almost identical. Those slanted blue eyes, high cheekbones, strong nose – they were all alike. They were all his.

“ _Ifrinn!_ ” he exclaimed as Mandy pulled a bit sharper on the hair at his crown.

“That’s a bad word, Gwand-da,” she admonished, her slight features creased in a frown.

He was sitting squarely on the floor in front of the hearth – and from her position perched on the small footstool, they were almost eye-to-eye. Her gaze met his, tiny dark brows furrowed.

“Aye – so it is. I’m sorry, _a nighean_. Ye willna tell yer mam, surely?”

Mandy grabbed another strand of hair and tied it in a knot around the base of a crooked plait. “Mama willna care – but Gwanny might!”

Jamie watched his granddaughter concentrate on her task, absolutely focused – her mass of dark curls exploding around her head as her hair dried from her bath – muttering under her breath at how it would be so much easier if he were to just _sit still_.

Love surged in his heart. Claire. Mandy was a wee Claire – she looked and doubtless acted as Claire must have when she was small, growing up in the fantastic world of the future that he could never quite picture clearly. Folk always commented that Brianna and Jem were female or miniature versions of himself – and the resemblance with William had become more and more unmistakable as the lad had grown.

But nobody had ever said anything about Mandy – who had clearly inherited her grandmother’s looks and glass face, not to mention her lack of patience where Jamie was concerned. And Claire had told him how Mandy wanted to help her “fix” people, now that she was big enough to hold Claire’s workbasket as she visited the crofts on the Ridge.

He didn’t think it was possible – but in that moment, he fell even more in love with his determined, feisty, miraculous granddaughter.

“Mandy?”

Ah – it was Claire who had entered earlier, home from her wee errand. Jamie heard her boots softly pad over to the fire, and he reached out one big hand under her skirts, caressing the smooth flesh at the back of her knee – keeping his head facing forward.

“I’m making Gwand-da pwetty!” Mandy exclaimed, smiling up at her grandmother.

Claire’s hand lightly rested on his head, tracing the impossible tangles that Mandy had created. “It’ll take hours to fix this,” she sighed, edging her thumbnail into the back of his neck. His scalp prickled with pleasure.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he replied quietly, admiring his granddaughter, lost in concentration as she tied off another plait. “I dinna mind one bit.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to [Imagine Claire and Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/138550326427/after-the-mackenzies-return-brianna-spends-some) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here for easier reading and in case there's anyone on AO3 who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check the blog out, though, and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: After the Mackenzies return, Brianna spends some time alone with her parents in their bedroom. She breaks down telling them about the stress she's been under.  
_

* * *

Brianna settled the tartan shawl tighter around her shoulders, tucking her bare toes under the hem of her shift as she settled closer to her mother on the bed.

“It just wasn’t safe anymore,” she sighed, finally meeting her father’s questioning gaze. “We were fine at Lallybroch, but those people – they’re nuts. They would have stopped at nothing.”

“Aren’t they called ‘nutters’ for a reason?” Claire quirked one eyebrow as she massaged comfrey salve into Jamie’s right hand, stiff after a long day of harvesting barley. “Bloody idiots want to rule Scotland. I knew someone like that, back before you were born. It didn’t turn out well for him, either.”

“Aye, but like that same wee idiot, these men were willing to do whatever it takes, no?” Jamie sat up straighter against the headboard, absently running his free hand over his hair.

“But Da – I was thinking – they were after Jem and Mandy because they thought the kids are the last of Lovat’s line. And they are – in the twentieth century.” She paused, waiting to see if her parents would make the logical next step.

“And in the eighteenth century, they’re not. Because Jamie is still alive.” Claire wiped her hands on a damp rag and settled next to Jamie against the headboard.

“Right – but I’m sure there’s no way they’d ever have known about William.”

Jamie’s face froze. “ _A Dhia_ ,” he said softly.

Brianna sighed. “We have to tell him, Da. Mandy almost let it slip at supper last night – he knows that something is up. He has the right to know who Mama and Roger and the kids and I are. Those people – ” She swallowed against the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

Jamie extended an arm to her, and suddenly she was wedged between her two parents, their arms holding her tight – as it should have been when she was small. They couldn’t take away the terror of spending so much time – in so many times – away from Roger, or the fear of losing her life, or the chasm of uncertainty that gaped before her, now that they were well and truly back in the past. But her mother’s capable hands stroking her back, and her father’s soothing Gaelic nonsense in her ear, calmed the storm in her mind and heart. For a long moment she just enjoyed the simple pleasure of being held by the two people whose love for her – and each other – was stronger than anything she’d ever known.

“Da?” she murmured after a while.

“Hmm?”

“Did Roger tell you about – about his visit to Lallybroch?”

He pulled back just in time for her to see one corner of his wide mouth lift in a smile. “How he met my father and sister? Aye. No wonder Jenny was shocked to see him on that first day.”

There was more to the story – Dougal MacKenzie, for one, and Jack Randall, for another – but tonight, in this moment, she’d let itpass. “And did he tell you about mine?”

“Yours?”  Claire smoothed a wild wisp of hair back behind Brianna’s ear. “What visit? Didn’t you live there?”

Brianna focused her gaze on Claire’s silver wedding ring – the pattern of entwined thistles that had so fascinated her as a child – drawing strength for what she’d have to share next. “When the kids and I were looking for Roger. We were able to travel back and forth, forward and back. I didn’t know it was even possible – but the kids, they’re…well. But we came out of the stones and couldn’t tell when we were until we got to Lallybroch.”

Jamie nodded, encouraging. Brianna hesitated, reluctant to break his heart.

“I met your father, too. My grandfather, my namesake. And I hadn’t known that Roger had already met him – I didn’t realize that we had missed each other by more than a decade. I didn’t know when I was, until he spoke.”

Now Jamie’s smile was tight-lipped – he could wait forever to hear what she had to say, though he clearly wanted to know as much as she could tell him.

“He saw Jem and I, coming over the ridge right when you see the house for the first time. He – he thought I was my grandmother. And Jem – he thought Jem was your brother.”

Brianna watched Jamie’s hand, still slick with comfrey salve, creep across the quilt to tangle with Claire’s fingers. “Oh, Christ, Da,” he breathed.

Brianna lay a gentle hand on his forearm. “He looked so hopeful – and I felt so terrible. And then he fainted and Jem and I – ”

“It’s all right, _a nighean_. Dinna cry for him – he’s been wi’ her and Willie now for almost forty years.”

She shook her head. “I know. But the pain, Da – I could see it on his face. He was half a person without her. I knew it because it was what I was feeling, not knowing where or when Roger was.”

He nodded his head, smiling sadly – knowing full well where she was going.

“And I realized – that pain, that terror of being separated – that’s what it must have been like for you and Mama. Because being parted by time is almost worse than being parted by death – at least if someone’s dead, you know that that’s the end. But when you’re in different times – the person *is* dead, but they’re also alive…”

Her voice trailed off as her parents shifted closer, nestling her between them like she was a small child. “Shhh,” Claire whispered into her ear. “It’s over. You found him. You found us.”

“But Mama – ”

“Hush, _mo chiusle_. It’s in the past, now – you’re here. That’s all that matters.”

She inhaled the soothing scents of hay and sweat and smoke embedded in his shirt. She relaxed under the gentle caress of her mother’s hands on her back and neck. And for the first time in her life, Brianna Ellen Randall Fraser MacKenzie drifted to sleep in her father’s arms.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a prompt sent in to[Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/139549177762/suggestions-william-visiting-the-ridge) on tumblr. I'm posting my Imagine prompts here on AO3 for easier reading and in case there's anyone here who might not be on tumblr. Do feel free to check out the blog and send in prompts if you have more ideas for our favorite pair!

_Original prompt: Imagine the conversation Jamie and Claire have with William telling him about where she came from. Does William believe it? Or does he refuse ?_

* * *

 

They’d waited to tell him until after the supper plates were cleared and the Fraser/MacKenzie/Murray clan began tucking in to their lovely – if simple – dessert of baked apples. Mandy quickly hoisted herself up on the bench, standing on her tiptoes to reach the pot of honey at the middle of the table, carefully sliding it across the smooth planks with Ian’s assistance. Rachel helped the girl spoon honey onto her apple before turning to her left and serving Roger. Jamie reached under the table to squeeze Claire’s knee – drawing her attention and silent agreement that now was the moment to move forward.

“William, _a bhailach_?”

The lad looked up, startled, from the opposite end of the table – chewing thoughtfully. “Pardon?”

Jamie sighed – belatedly remembering that the lad had no _Gaidhlig_. Something that he and Brianna would quickly remedy.

“There’s something we all wish to tell ye. It’s best for ye to hear it in the company of yer family – so ye can ask all of us questions, if need be.”

William carefully lay down his spoon and sat up just a bit straighter – readying himself. He raised his chin – meeting Jamie’s blue gaze – the tilt of his face and the way he rested his palms flat on the table mirroring his father. The resemblance was so striking that Claire blinked in shock – and was momentarily transported back nearly forty years, to that fateful night at Leoch where Jamie had defied his uncles at the final MacKenzie Gathering with the exact same look on his face.

“Ye’ll know that Claire and Brianna and Roger Mac and the bairns are different, aye?”

William’s gaze narrowed. “Yes.”

Jamie threaded the fingers of his right hand through Claire’s, squeezing tight. “And ye’ll also know that I take counsel from them in which side I’ve taken in this war, and in the decisions I make in running the farms.”

William nodded, dark brows furrowed, clearly struggling to follow Jamie’s logic.

Jamie licked his lips. “So. I trust them implicitly. It’s my duty – and Ian’s – and Roger’s – to protect all of them from harm. Because they know things. They know what will happen to the Colonies. They know that the English will not prevail in this war. They know that the Indians will be run off their lands. They know that there will be great growth in this country, and that thousands and thousands of ships will come across the ocean, full of people wanting to settle here.”

Clearly bored with this sudden turn in the conversation, Mandy helped herself to Rachel’s half-eaten apple – delighting in how neither her mother nor her father stopped her.

William darted his eyes to look at Ian – and Roger – and Brianna – and Jem. “But _how_? How do they know such things? And I know they’re your - _our_ \- family, but why do you trust them?”

“Because they’re from the future,” Jamie said baldly.

William blinked. “Excuse me?” He turned to face his sister – politely diverting his eyes from Rachel, who had hoisted a fussy Oggy from his basket to feed him his own supper – face full of questions.

“Mama, Roger, and I – we were born and grew up in the twentieth century,” Brianna said softly, laying a soothing, gentle hand atop a fist William hadn’t even realized he’d formed.

He frowned, mind racing. “I – I – that’s impossible.”

“It’s not.” Roger’s voice was quiet, but strong. “We’ve all done it, more than once. Travelled through time, I mean. Even Mandy.”

Finally happy that the grown-ups had decided to bring her into the conversation, Mandy nodded at her uncle. “Aye. We went thwoo the magic wocks in Scotland!”

“Magic - ??” he gaped.

“Stone circles – surely you’ve seen them in your travels? They mark…passages, of sorts. Places where those who are able to can travel.” Brianna gently rubbed the back of William’s hand – only slightly larger than her own. “I know it sounds impossible, I didn’t believe it either, at first. But it’s real.”

“Aye, it’s real all right,” Jem added, eyes trained on his empty plate, one finger idly tracing back and forth over a chip in the fire-hardened clay.

“But – but _why_? Surely things are – are _different_ where you come from. Why live here, in the middle of a war, when surely things are safer in that other time?” William raised his elbows to the table and cradled his head in his hands, scrubbing his fingers back and forth through his thick, dark hair.

“Because this is where our family is,” Claire finally said. “Because when I fell through the stones the first time, nearly forty years ago, I met Jamie. I married him. I wanted to build a life with him. And that was more important to me than anything else.”

William looked up at her – the short ends of his hair sticking straight up – and watched his father gather her close against him and kiss her temple.

“But I don’t understand – you married him here? And yet Brianna and Roger were raised - _then_?”

“They were separated for nearly twenty years, cousin.” Ian hoisted a drowsy Oggy from Rachel’s lap up to his shoulder, gently patting the baby’s back. “She came back only when Cousin Brianna was old enough to live on her own.”

“Twenty years?” William gaped. Claire watched as he made some mental calculations. “That means - that means when you were at Helwater, that was when you were separated from Mother Claire. When you and my mother -”

His manners prevented him from going further - but the way that Jamie pressed his lips together tightly was all the answer that William needed.

Then for a long moment, William looked at each person – each member of his family – very carefully. From Jamie – whispering something into Mother Claire’s ear – to Mother Claire, her face nearly ashen – to Ian and Rachel, patiently watching him – to Brianna, sharing a small smile of encouragement – to Roger, gently rubbing Mandy’s sticky hands with a linen napkin – to young Jem, trying desperately to show he was an equal in this conversation among the adults.

“Does my stepfather know?”

“I know he suspects _something_ \- but I’m fairly certain it’s not that.” Claire pushed away her empty plate, one hand still linked with Jamie’s atop the table.

“Now do ye understand why I must protect my wife and daughter so, William?” Jamie asked softly. “Why they and the bairns are so precious to me? Why I trust them, and Roger Mac, as much as I do?”

William could only shake his head in amazement. “I still don’t understand it a bit – not yet. But I trust you. All of you. You have good hearts – you’ve no reason to deceive. I trust that you’re telling me the truth.”

“I am. We are. And I must ask ye to no’ tell anyone else.”

He sat up straight with indignation. “I’d never – ”

“He knows,” Roger said gently. “But he still has to ask, aye?”

“Yes, of course,” William breathed. “But still – I – _stones_? And time travel? I don’t quite understand it all.”

The room fell silent as William took his time to process everything. Mandy, suddenly bored with the quiet, folded her tiny arms on the tabletop, rested her head in the crook of one elbow, and fell promptly asleep.

“Do you – do you think that _I_ could travel?” William asked after a long while. “That would be so – so *fantastic* to see the future!”

Brianna and Claire exchanged meaningful glances. “Oh, little brother,” she shook her head. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/143272107962/at-frasers-ridge-love-to-see-jamie-as-a-father-to)

_Original prompt: At Fraser's Ridge Love to see Jamie as a father to William. William remembers the love he received from Jamie as child. William forgives and accepts Jf as his father and submits to Jf as his father and Himself. Please ! Thx love everything you do!_

* * *

William planted his feet farther apart for the next shot, steadying himself as he carefully aimed at a particularly plump hen at the edge of the flock of turkeys in the clearing.

The first loud blast had startled the birds, but not enough to disperse them. With the second blast, however, William felled his prize. He turned to Jamie, grinning widely.

“Good lad!” his father exclaimed, clearly pleased. “I had no idea ye were such a fine shot.”

William lowered the musket and reached to rub his shoulder, wincing from the recoil. “I had lessons growing up, and I’ve never had to shoot my own food - but between the game birds in Virginia and the practice I’ve gotten in the war, well -”

Jamie clapped William’s other shoulder, matching the young man’s shy smile as they crossed the clearing. “I’m proud of ye. Though I’ll have ye know, yer sister is the finest shot I’ve ever seen. She hasna had much practice, since she and Roger and the weans returned to us - but I’m sure she’d find a way to try to best ye.”

They reached the fallen turkey and crouched beside it. William watched, fascinated, as Jamie murmured something in Gaelic before gently wringing the hen’s neck.

“What was that?”

Jamie turned to his shoulder bag for the length of canvas they’d use to wrap the bird for travel. “I ken it was probably already deid - but I wanted to make sure. We canna have a half-deid bird waking up and squawking over yer shoulder on the way back.”

William helped Jamie spread the cloth on the crushed grass. “No, not that - those words you said. Was that a prayer of some kind?”

Together they rolled the carcass onto canvas. “Aye. It’s called a *gralloch* prayer - my da taught it to me as a lad. It’s to - weel, it probably sounds a big pagan to ye, but it’s to thank the spirit of the animal for its gift of life, and gift of food.”

William pursed his lips, considering, holding the wrapped canvas in place as Jamie neatly tied it with twine. Not for the first time, he was amazed at how dexterous Jamie was with just the four fingers on his right hand.

“When did you lose your finger?”

The tying done, Jamie eased back to sit cross-legged on the grass, gently pulling the edges of his kilt over his knees. William sat back in his breeches, heedless of the leaf litter and small pool of blood beside the wrapped turkey.

Jamie laid his hand flat on one filthy, sunburnt knee. “Saratoga,” he said quietly, reflecting. The afternoon sun shone on his bright red hair - dazzling, almost blinding William in its intensity. Jamie looked across at his son, and saw the highlights of red in his dark hair. His heart surged with joy at this small echo of himself in the bright lad beside him, who was still such a stranger in so many ways.

“I didna *lose* it, ken,” he continued, tracing with his eyes the almost-faded scars on his knuckles and joints - the legacy of his ordeal in Wentworth prison, a dozen lifetimes ago. “Claire amputated it.”

“She did?” William scooted closer and gently reached to touch where the fourth finger should have been.

The simple joy of having his son beside him, touching him - Jamie’s brain couldn’t process all of the emotions. So he focused, as he always did, on just the thought of Claire.

“Aye. She’s verra skilled wi’ her wee knife. She put me to sleep and tells me it didna take more than a few minutes.” He flipped his hand so it was palm up, and effortlessly took William’s hand, squeezing the strong fingers - so much like his own - tightly in companionship.

William, dear lad, was genuinely touched. Jamie heard him swallow at the sudden rush of emotion, but neither let go.

“She was trained as a surgeon in her own time,” he continued, voice suddenly husky. “She went to a proper school, and had a reputation as one of the finest in her profession in the entire country. She kent weel what she was doing - and she willna say it, but she’s quite proud of my hand. After we - came back - to the Ridge, and there were so many who were so suspicious of her and her talents, all it takes is one look at my puir hand for them to trust her.”

William nodded, processing.

“It’s so hard for me to understand how the two of you survived living apart, for so long,” he said after a long while. “To see the two of you together - it’s a - a deep love, isn’t it?”

Jamie sighed. “It is.”

“And how could you possibly send her away, like you did? How could you send her away when you only wanted to have her with you, always?”

“I had to, lad,” his father said simply. “I had no other choice. It was so - desperate - at that time. Everything was falling apart, and she was pregnant. What else could I have done?”

“But the life you have now - on the Ridge, with your tenants - that’s the life you always wanted with her. And you have it, but you could have had it much earlier, couldn’t you? And you were in prison, and at Helwater, and apart for so many years.”

Jamie turned to face William squarely. The lad’s eyes - his own eyes - looked up at him, questioning. *What kind of man are you?* his son’s eyes asked. *Am I that kind of man, too?*

“I did it then, and I’d do it again. Claire knows that. Brianna knows that. Jenny knows that. Because it kept Claire and Brianna safe. God restored my wife and daughter to me. For that - every day we spent apart was worth the sacrifice.”

William shook his head. “I don’t understand - ”

Jamie’s eyes bored into his. “And had I no’ given them up, I never would have gone to prison, and I never would ha’ gone to Helwater.” He licked his lips. “And that means I’d have never fathered *you,* William. Ye wouldna be, had I no’ let Claire go.”

William’s mouth gaped, throat working wordlessly.

Jamie scooted closer and framed William’s face with his hands. “Do ye understand me, lad? I canna regret any of it. I canna look back and wish it were different. Because had it been different, I wouldna have you. And I would never, ever wish that away.”

Tears slipped down his son’s cheeks. He closed his eyes in disbelief.

And then wordlessly sank into the sanctuary of his father’s chest, tears soaking the rough smokiness of his plaid, overcome with the love and devotion and admiration pouring out of the man whose arms were the safest place he’d ever known.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/145862131622/do-you-guys-ever-write-ian-rachel-fics-i-feel) on tumblr

Original prompt: Do you guys ever write Ian & Rachel fics? I feel like we don't see nearly enough of them :P :)  

* * *

“May I hold him?”

Rachel looked up at William, who stood beside her, absently rubbing his hands together.

“Of course! He just ate – he’s a bit sleepy, but he’ll be active before you know it.”

William knelt and took Oggy from his mother’s arms, settling the baby against his shoulder.

“Wait – turn around?”

He scooted to turn his back to Rachel, and felt her lay a cloth over his shoulder.

“I’ve had to wash so many of Ian’s shirts because he keeps forgetting that the poor boy can produce as much out of one end as he does the other!”

William rose to sit beside Rachel on the rough-hewn bench, admiring the quiet view from the porch of their small cabin as he gently rubbed Oggy’s warm, solid back.

How exactly was he related to this baby? He and Ian were cousins – so Oggy was…

“I’m still not quite used to living so far from civilization.” Rachel stretched and wrapped her arisaid tighter around her shoulders. “But this is Ian’s place – it’s where his family is. His uncle, his aunt, his mother. Now his cousin, too.”

“I spent many years on my stepfather’s plantation in Virginia,” William remarked quietly, watching a groundhog emerge from the edge of the clearing and stop to sun himself in the late afternoon sunshine. “But there were always so many people around – and I had tutors – and the…the slaves were the ones doing all the work anyway. It’s nowhere near like the Ridge, where everyone plays their part.”

“Yes – and Jamie makes sure we all have a part to play.”

Oggy squirmed against William’s shoulder, and he shifted the lad to sit facing him on his lap.

“I’ve never really been around babies. I never – well, I wasn’t raised with a sibling, anyway. Was never around other children much, come to think of it – even when I was in England.”

Oggy’s eyes went wide at William’s voice – and Rachel smiled.

“Well, thee - *you* are doing just fine, Cousin William. He likes you.”

“I can’t imagine why – I haven’t particularly done anything with him.”

“Oh yes you have – you’re caring for him. He can tell.”

“He can?”

She ran a gentle finger across Oggy’s dark fuzz and down his incredibly soft cheek. He sneezed, and the adults laughed.

“Of course he can. You know, Ian was scared to death when he was born.”

Shocked, William turned to face Rachel squarely.

“Truly? I didn’t think *anything* could scare Ian. He was a Mohawk!”

“Well – yes. But he was sore afraid for me, that I wouldn’t make it through the birth. And scared for Oggy, that there could be…complications.”

The tall trees whispered as the wind soared through their leaves – calming. Sheltering.

“You know – Jamie and Mother Jenny’s mother, Ellen – she died in childbed.”

“I didn’t know that.” William’s voice was low – and sounded remarkably like his father’s.

“Yes – and Claire had a very difficult pregnancy with Brianna. She said that had she not – not *passed* through time, that she likely would have died as well.”

“I didn’t realize it could be so dangerous. Well, I suppose I *did* - but it never happened to anyone I knew, really. Never to anyone I cared for.”

Oggy kicked his wee legs against William’s thighs.

“It’s a true danger. But a risk worth taking – you can see the reward for yourself.”

“There you are, cousin!”

William looked up to see Ian and Roger stepping down the path toward the cabin.

Oggy squealed at the sound of his Da’s voice, and William turned him around to watch the men approach.

“Is someone looking for me?”

Roger stepped onto the porch and squeezed Rachel’s shoulder in greeting. “Only Jem and Mandy – they’re still after you to do a bit of swordfighting wi’ Jamie.”

Right behind him, Ian bounded up the steps and bent to kiss Rachel soundly. She laughed into their kiss.

“I suppose I could be persuaded – though I’m a bit out of practice.”

Ian hoisted Oggy up over his head and kissed his wee belly. The baby giggled.

“They willna mind one bit.” Roger sat against William and pulled a flask from his sporran, offering it to William. William obligingly drank - he was still getting used to the taste of whisky – and handed the flask back to his…brother-in-law?

“Well I’ll endeavor to provide good entertainment.”

Together they watched Ian and Rachel, enraptured, play with their son.

“It’s the greatest happiness in the world, William,” Roger remarked quietly. “To have a child – children – with the woman you love.”

“Yes,” the younger man swallowed. “Yes, I can see that now. With them. With you and Brianna. And most of all, with Jamie and Mother Claire.”

Roger turned to look at him then – his green eyes piercing.

“You are loved, William. By so many people – by your family. I hope you know that.”

William went still, then nodded. “I do now, Roger. I do now.”

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/148403142641/i-was-wondering-if-you-could-write-something) on tumblr

original prompt:   I was wondering if you could write something around Bree & Claire/Jamie (or both) talking about Claire coming back through the stones earlier, if C&J would've had more children etc? Thanks!  

* * *

 

William took a long, restorative drink of cider, lips pursing at the sour tang as the cool drink washed down his throat.

He hadn’t had that much fun since - well, in a very long time. It had been an even longer time since he’d sparred with a left-handed opponent. And Jamie Fraser - his father - was no ordinary left-handed opponent.

The man  had bested him, several times. But had gone easy, mindful of the audience - Mandy and Fanny dancing and cheering, Jem and Germaine in complete awe, Roger and Brianna and Ian and Rachel standing quietly, mesmerized.

Mother Claire - and Aunt Jenny - off to the side, armed with bandages and salve, just in case.

Not since his training had he had such an opponent.

Come to think of it - he’d never had such an opponent.

“Ye did well, lad.”

Jamie’s four-fingered hand settled on William’s shoulder, pressing the sweat-soaked fabric to his back, settling next to him on the bench in the kitchen.

“That was - exhilarating.” William set his earthenware beaker on the table, careful to not spill the liquid on the new tablecloth Aunt Jenny had just completed.

“That’s one way to describe it.” Jamie took a long draught from his own beaker before smacking his lips in contentment. “Ah! Brianna’s gotten much better wi’ the receipt for this - the first time she tried it, it was so sour that Claire decided to brew it for vinegar for her surgery!”

William smiled at the image. “Practice makes perfect, I suppose.”

“Aye - it does. Ye’re a bonny wee swordsman, William. Especially for a cack-handed fighter.”

William lowered his eyes to his beaker, feeling his cheeks glow with the praise. “My stepfather made sure I had a lot of practice.”

Jamie pursed his lips, thoughtful. “I dinna doubt that he did. When - ”

“There you are!”

The men turned to see Claire and Brianna bustle into the kitchen, arms full of freshly-harvested corn.

“Enough resting on those laurels! Time to get to work!”

Claire gracelessly dumped a dozen ears on the far side of the table. “Come on, men - if you’re strong enough to fight each other with your swords, you’re strong enough to help us prepare for supper! Corn on the cob, with butter!”

Jamie quickly downed the rest of his cider, squeezed William’s shoulder, and slid down the bench toward Claire. William watched him tilt his chin up for a kiss - which Claire took her time in returning.

“I swear to GOD,” Brianna teased, depositing her own dozen or so ears at the spot Jamie had vacated beside William. “Nobody would begrudge you if you went upstairs for a quick one. William must be the only one of us who hasn’t seen or heard you two in action.”

“Brianna!” William’s felt his flush spread across his entire face. “I cannot believe - ”

She propped one hand on her hip. “Oh, you English are all the same! You need to be more of a Scot, little brother - we talk about these things all the time!”

“Ye’ll speak to yer wee brother wi’ more respect.” They turned to see their father - with Claire on his lap - grinning like an idiot on the other end of the table.

“Please, Da. He’s grown - he can handle himself.”

“Enough - shuck, please. Just leave it all in a pile and I’ll ask the boys to sweep it up when we’re done.”

Brianna recognized Claire’s Mama voice very well - and for the next few minutes, the four of them bent to their work.

A thought niggled at William - something he’d wanted to ask, since their discussion at dinner a few nights previous and then while shooting with Jamie yesterday. Something to do with time travel - and married love - and a painful, two-decade separation.

“Ja - Da?”

Jamie’s head jerked up sharply to face his son. That it was the first time William had called him such clearly did not escape his notice - but he said nothing. Encouraging.

“Yes?”

William pushed several stray strands of corn silk toward the pile at the center of the table. “I - I want to ask you about something you said the other day.”

He watched Mother Claire take a seat beside Jamie on the bench - and felt Brianna put down her corn, giving him her undivided attention.

“Go on, lad. It’s just us here.”

William swallowed. “It’s only - you told me that you and Mother Claire were separated for a very long time. And that you did it to save her, and Brianna. And that if you had the chance to go back, you’d still do it all over again.”

Claire’s hand gripped Jamie’s amid the cornhusks.

“Yes. I would. And my reward for that choice is that Brianna is here, today - as are you, William. So I dinna regret it.”

William nodded, shrugging his shoulders a bit - a nervous habit he had, almost as if his shirt was a size too small.

“But I see how you are with Mother Claire - with the rest of your family. You - you thrive when you’re together. There is so much love between you. Brianna told me about - about our sister who died.”

William had never heard the house so silent. Outside in the dooryard he heard two wooden swords clacking against each other - that must be Jem and Germaine, still at it. And then Mandy, singing a bawdy song in her off-key voice, somewhere in the sitting room - likely trying to comb the cat’s fur again.

“And I can’t help but wonder - would you have had more children like us, had Mother Claire come back sooner? Or, had she stayed, and lived in this time - even if it means you were still separated, when you were in prison or at Helwater?”

Jamie’s eyes were wide - pupils dilated. Beside him, Claire’s eyes shone with tears. The knuckles of their joined hands were bone-white - tension coiled.

“It’s only, you get so much joy from each other, and from the family, and - ”

“*Seas, a bhailach.*”

William quit babbling and lay his hands in his lap - watching his fingers tremble. Not yet understanding his father’s strange language, but knowing from the tone of his voice that his time to speak had come.

“It’s a good question. And I’ll answer it - for yer sake, and that of yer sister.”

William nodded, eyes still fixed on the table.

“Look at me, William.”

Slowly, carefully, he did. Meeting the eyes that were so much like his own.

“I love you and yer sister more than ye could ever possibly imagine. I ken it’s hard for ye to understand that, given that I - I didna have a hand in raising the two of ye. But when ye have yer own bairns one day, maybe then ye will begin to understand.”

Jamie raised the back of Claire’s hand to his lips and kissed it reverently.

“There is always a chance we could have had more bairns - but I dinna trouble myself with looking backwards, William. It’s as I told ye before - had I no’ made the same choices I did, I wouldna be speaking to the two of ye right now.”

“But things may have been different!” William exclaimed - drawing from a well of passion that surprised him. “You could have had so much more, Da - so much more with Brianna and Mother Claire. And you didn’t.”

“Aye, lad. But I canna look back, and live.”

He dropped Claire’s hand and scooted down the bench to sit beside his son. He framed William’s face between his battered, work-worn hands, eyes piercing into his.

“And I would never change anything - even for all the bairns in the world - because Claire and I have learned that even the smallest action can have a tremendous impact. So - I willna change anything, if it means I wouldna be sitting wi’ ye and yer sister today.”

William swallowed, throat full of emotion.

“Do ye understand me, lad?”

William could only nod - and, feeling Brianna’s soothing arm around his middle, smiled at his father.

Basking in love.

“Is it all right - ”

“I’m hungwy!”

The four adults turned to see Mandy MacKenzie, one hand on her tiny hip, the other holding a very irritated Adso over her shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mandy?”

William smiled - he hoped to never be on the receiving end of Mother Claire’s stern Grannie voice.

“Can ye stop *talking* pwease? Da said I could help him and Uncle Ian wif the bawbeque!”

The four Fraser adults laughed - and Jamie kissed his son on the forehead - and they all returned to their work.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](http://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/153647150447/jenny-explains-the-family-history-to-william-and-a) on tumblr

**Original prompt** : Jenny explains the family history to William and a who's who of the cousins.

* * *

 

“I can’t believe how delicious this is.”

William looked around for a napkin - failed to locate one - and discreetly wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“Aye - Brianna says she and Roger Mac have a special mixture of spices they add to the meat before it’s roasted.” Jenny reached for her tumbler of whisky. “I dinna ken exactly what it is, mind - but it’s a sight tastier than what I made for my own family, back in Scotland.”

Laughter on the other side of the dooryard - Ian hoisted Oggy up and down as the baby cooed and Mandy MacKenzie - face smeared with grease from her dinner - grinned up at her cousin.

“Mistress - Auntie Jenny.” William cleared his throat. “Can you please remind me of how many children you have - apart from Ian?”

Jenny’s face lit from within. “Ian is my youngest - did ye ken he left home for the Colonies when he was just fourteen? Until I came over wi’ Jamie, I hadna seen my own son for over ten years.”

William tore another hunk of bread from the crusty loaf sitting on the tabletop between him and Roger - who was deep in conversation with Jamie.

“That must have been difficult.” He turned on the bench to face Jenny directly, locking his blue eyes with hers.

He startled at the realization they were the *same* blue eyes.

“When ye have bairns of yer own one day, ye might come close to imagining.”

She cleared her throat and picked up an apple from the basket on the ground.

“So - Ian is my youngest. And I have a Jamie as well - weel, we call him Young Jamie, but he isna so young anymore, now that he runs the estate and has a family of his own.”

“That must have been confusing - with two Jamies about.”

Jenny bit into her apple and tilted her head, eyes narrowed at her nephew.

“I dinna ken how much of Jamie’s history he’s told ye - and it’s no’ my story to tell - but we didna have much chance for confusion, when my eldest was growing up.”

Jenny chewed, waiting for William to ask more. Respecting him when he didn’t.

“And after Young Jamie?”

She swallowed. “Two daughters - Maggie and Kitty. Yer…Claire was there when Maggie was born - she saw her before Ian did.”

She licked her lips - jaw clenched.

“Ian - my husband, that is. He’s gone now, these two years past.”

Not knowing what else to do, William extended a gentle arm and rested it on Jenny’s shoulder.

Christ, she was so tiny! How was it possible that she and Jamie were siblings?

“I regret I never had the honor of meeting him,” he said softly - in a tone of voice he hoped was reassuring.

She straightened - and he withdrew his hand.

“Ye have - he is in me. And in every single one of our bairns.” She sniffed - but the moment had passed. “And then I had twins - Michael and Janet. And then Ian.”

“Six children. You must have been busy.”

Jenny snorted. “Och, aye - wi’ the bairns about, a household and estate to run, and God knows what else was always needing to be dealt with.”

“Stop, Germaine - come help Rachel clear the dishes.”

Claire’s voice cut across the dooryard. Germaine Fraser, locked in a wrestling match with Jem MacKenzie, froze, rose, heaved a theatrical sigh, and stepped over to Rachel at the far end of the table.

“You’ll know I grew up alone, for the most part.” William spoke quietly - almost embarrassed. “I wasn’t around other children very much. I always wondered what it would be like to - to have such a large family.”

“But ye do, William.” Jenny’s eyes shone, her mouth creased into a small smile. “Who do ye think all these people here tonight are?”

Now the smile extended to his own lips. “I know that, now. It’s still quite overwhelming to me - to know that. And now I also know that family isn’t just comprised of blood relations - it’s anyone you hold dear.”

Jenny nodded, handing her plate to a frowning Germaine as he walked past. “That’s certainly true. I didna mention earlier - but I raised Fergus, for the most part. Right along wi’ my own bairns, and some of the other lads of the estate who were orphaned during the Rising.”

“But weren’t the years following the Rising so terrible in the Highlands? How did you make do?”

“We managed. We had to - it wouldna be right, otherwise.” She finished her whisky and rolled her shoulders, easing out the knots caused from a long day of spinning. “We had to do right by our tenants. That’s the most important thing.”

William twisted his lips, thinking.

“I - I hope - well. I hope you know that I’ll - I’ll never make a claim on your estate.”

Stunned, Jenny’s eyes widened. “Why would ye ever do that, William?”

He shrugged - almost as if his shirt were too tight. “Because I’m - I’m Jamie’s son. And Jamie is - was - the heir. Which makes me - ”

“Psh. Nay bother - he deeded it to Young Jamie right before Culloden. Lallybroch has been run by Murrays for near on thirty years - and both Jamie and Young Jamie intend for it to stay that way.”

Jamie turned away from his conversation with Roger to peer over William’s shoulder. “Besides, lad - the original deed for Lallybroch says that the estate passes to the oldest heir. No’ necessarily the oldest male heir. And in case ye haven’t noticed, ye’ve got a big redheided sister walking about, who would be ahead of you for any claim ye’d want to make anyway.”

William stood but then crouched on the ground, between his father and aunt.

“Have either of you a plan to return to Scotland, then? To Lallybroch?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Jamie and Jenny spoke at the same time - contradicting each other. And then smiled.

“Yes - one day. I’d like to die there, if I can. Be buried besides my parents.”

Jenny huffed. “Such a romantic. I spent my entire life there - did ye ken, William, that I didna travel farther than 20 miles from Lallybroch in my whole life until I came to the Colonies?”

“Truly?” he gaped. “But - ”

“It’s much more common than ye think, William - in Scotland for sure, and even here now in the Colonies. Most people aren’t soldiers - they have no need to travel.”

William leaned to one side to allow Claire and Brianna to bring out the dessert and lay it on the table.

“Are those - baked apples?”

Brianna smiled, wiping the sweat off her brow. “It’s not fancy, little brother - but very, very tasty. Perfect for fall.”

“Did you make these in - in your own time, then?” William retook his seat beside Jamie and helped himself to a steaming apple.

“No - we’d make s'mores over the campfire.”

She laughed at his blank look. “Biscuits with chocolate and marshmallows. But I don’t think you know what those are, either.”

William served an apple to Jamie, and then to Jenny.

“Well - I’ll wager it wouldn’t be as good as these, anyway. Shall we?”


End file.
